Page 27 of The Secret Christmas Library

It was hard to break up the party; but necessary. They had, Jamie observed, a lot to do tomorrow.

‘Although we’re all going to be stuck here till March, so I’m not sure why that’s important,’ drawled Esme, yawning and heading for the door. ‘Bonnie, are you going to make it back to the cottage?’

Bonnie glanced out. ‘Nah, the kitchen door is wedged shut. I’m going to stay in the house till this is done. We’ll do a joint effort tomorrow, dig it out.’

Esme nodded.

‘Everyone take a candle and a spare, and don’t leave it burning, you’ll burn the place down,’ said Bonnie.

‘Hang on,’ said Mirren in a sudden panic. ‘I can’t remember the way.’

‘Girls have no sense of direction,’ said Theo, teasingly. Then, with a more flirtatious note in his voice, ‘I’ll show you.’

‘Okay,’ said Mirren, as Bonnie blew out all of the candles save half a dozen or so and left the room with nothing more than the flickering firelight.

It was hard, suddenly, to leave the warmth and head out into the long, cold red passageways, the dark corners, the empty, spooky, gloomy rooms containing nothing.

She was glad she had Theo to accompany her; she would not have wanted to walk the passageways alone.

Outside, the night sky was so thick with snow that there was not a drop of moonlight anywhere; it was so dark, you wouldn’t be able to see your hand in front of your face.

Bonnie disappeared, Esme likewise, storming off with a full candelabra in front of her, even though she was so sure-footed she could probably find her way round the house blindfolded.

Theo headed out into the corridor. Jamie was still sitting, staring into the fire.

‘Well, goodnight, then,’ he said, and his face suddenly looked tired and rumpled, and sad.

‘Aren’t you going up?’

‘I’ll stay here a while,’ he said, nursing his glass.

Mirren nodded. Back in the doorway, Theo raised his eyebrow at her. ‘You coming?’

‘Just a minute.’

He grinned. ‘Alright, then, I’m going down to the end of the corridor to jump out on you and give you a bluey.’

‘Well, I’m not going to have a bluey with all this warning,’ said Mirren.

‘Yeah, you will, I’m very frightening.’ He headed off.

‘Are you okay?’ said Mirren to Jamie.

Jamie shrugged. ‘Och, yeah.’

‘We’ll figure it out, you know,’ she said. ‘I’m very confident. Don’t lose the bits of the bird.’

‘I won’t,’ he said, shaking his head. Then the frown line was back. ‘Why,’ he said. ‘Why are all the men in my family such fuck-ups? This is just insane.’ He glanced up at her. ‘What kind of crazy mind does this, then goes out into the snow to die?’

‘He got disorientated,’ said Mirren. ‘That happens with old people. And the puzzle – maybe he thought it would be fun for you.’

‘Maybe,’ said Jamie heavily. ‘Or maybe being crazy runs in families.’

‘You seem very sane to me,’ said Mirren. ‘But also, everyone’s family is completely crazy.’

‘Is that true?’

‘So, so true,’ said Mirren, thinking of her mother fretting about candied peel.

‘But here I am, sitting in front of the fire in the middle of a vast pile I can’t keep afloat, down to the bones of my arse, trying to chase down some binary code printed on to a swan to stop the council repossessing my home,’ said Jamie. ‘Is this your normal Tuesday?’

‘Mirren, I can’t keep up this bat pose for much longer!’ came a voice from the end of the corridor.

‘Off you go,’ said Jamie. ‘Don’t keep him waiting, for goodness’ sake.’

Mirren wanted to say something more, but didn’t know what would be appropriate. And now he was brushing her off, his gaze returning to deep in the fire.

‘Okay,’ she said. And then, as she turned to go, carrying the candle in her hand, she paused.

‘It wasn’t my normal Tuesday,’ she said. ‘It was much, much better.’

‘WARRRGH!’

‘Stop it, Theo, you’re being ridiculous,’ Mirren said, but she couldn’t help laughing.

Theo had tugged his dinner jacket over his face like a cape, his handsome face laughing back at her.

Mirren didn’t want to admit that, actually, advancing up the corridor lit only by a candle, with the house creaking and settling all around, the weight of the snow hemming them in and the air freezing, she had felt very frightened indeed, wondering constantly if she could feel unearthly footprints behind her.

Passing closed door after closed door, not knowing what was inside, draped in sheets, shut away .

. . The dying notes of the music on the wind-up gramophone still played in her head, conjuring images of other people, long dead, who must have danced through this house, full of conviction that they were living in the very latest way, that life would go on as it always had, not for one moment anticipating the house being filled to the brim with mouldering old books, crumbling away underneath their feet.

She would have loved to see it in its heyday, bright-painted and bustling, filled with people, running like clockwork.

But now, in its crumbling dotage, it was a frightening thing.

And knowing someone was about to jump out on her also didn’t help.

‘Come on!’ said Theo. ‘How often do you get to rampage around a stately home at night!’

His eyes were so dark in the candlelight they were impossible to see.

Mirren thought briefly of Jamie, staring into the fire, far too young to seem so sad.

Theo opened a door she wouldn’t have noticed, behind a curtain, and sure enough it was the turret stairs. It was even colder here than it had been before; the windows were only single-pane, and none too new at that. They might as well have been outside.

‘It really is freezing,’ said Theo, as they ascended the stairs, Mirren trying to shield her candle and hold her tartan throw around herself at the same time. ‘If only one of us knew some way to warm up. At bedtime.’

‘Theo,’ said Mirren reprovingly. ‘We’re here for work.’

Theo shrugged and looked straight at her. ‘Actually, we’re snowed in and off the clock.’

‘You’re incorrigible,’ said Mirren.

‘Thank you,’ said Theo, and pushed open a side door, then led them down another side of the building, and sure enough they were back on the bedroom corridor. It was annoying how he’d managed that.

At her door, she stopped. He stopped too and stood over her.

They were intensely close. Once again Mirren could feel her pulse beating.

It had been so long. She ached to be touched, to be held, to be wanted.

She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. But she wouldn’t fall for it again, she told herself. She wouldn’t.

She hesitated. Too long; he backed away. She looked up at him in agony. If he had grabbed her, kissed her, right then and there . . . she didn’t know what she would have done. Instead, taking her silence for a lack of assent, he took a step backwards, into the shadows.

‘Well. You know where I am,’ he said, quietly. ‘If you need anything.’

Then he leaned in, very quietly, smelling of woodsmoke and whisky, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

‘Goodnight,’ he said, and turned, and vanished across the hallway.

Feeling restless, turned on and confused all at the same time, Mirren entered her own room.

The fire was burning low, but it was still pleasant; there was hot water in the jug, and it was too dark to read, so she prepared herself to get into bed and stare into the fire.

Steeling herself against damp sheets, she was surprised and delighted to feel them warm; Bonnie, bless her, had stuck in a hot water bottle.

If she were that way inclined, she thought, untying the curtains around the bed but leaving a bit of the bottom open so she could see the fire, she would find Bonnie completely irresistible.

She thought back to how she and Jamie were together.

Like siblings, a little – more than Jamie and his actual sibling – or co-conspirators, or something.

It was odd. If she had her phone, and a charger, and a signal or an internet connection, she could have Googled him, seen what his relationship history was.

He didn’t seem to be someone who was on social media very much.

Even when the power was on, he hadn’t kept feeling for his phone at odd moments, looking surprised when it didn’t work or simply wasn’t there.

His phone didn’t seem to be the reflex for him that it was for so many others.

But then again, a house this size . . . surely it would be in the news, would be of some interest?

He must have a title or something. So, there would be something online.

But she didn’t have access to it, or anything else – as it was, she was having to hope one of Theo’s relatives would call her mother’s workplace, so they didn’t send a SWAT team out.

She thought about how strange it was, to meet someone and not immediately be able to find out anything about them; and she pictured his sad face in front of the fire. Bonnie, she was sure, would have come up to comfort him.

Mirren stared at the roof of the four-poster bed, wondering who had slept under this thick brocade canopy over the centuries.

The shadows of the flames flickered up against it as she wondered about Theo.

God he was attractive. So attractive. And so close .

. . but she shouldn’t. She mustn’t. Her long day overtook her; her limbs felt impossibly heavy, and, before she could follow her train of thought, it fell off the rails and she was asleep.